


i'll sing anything, if it makes you laugh

by eegghhh



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Anxiety, Banter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Himbo Galo Thymos, Light Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, Secret Santa, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29057574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eegghhh/pseuds/eegghhh
Summary: Lio, lead singer of underground rock band, The Mad Burnish, becomes annoyed with his bandmates after entering them into a high-profile competition. Everything becomes worse when they meet Galo, lead of up-and-coming pop rock band, Burning Rescue. Banter and competition flare just hours before they go on stage...
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	i'll sing anything, if it makes you laugh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mellisah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellisah/gifts).



> Surprise! It was me all along haha!  
> Sorry it took so long to post, my word juices have been run dry recently. I hope you enjoy this very gay and very spite-fueled musician AU Snow :)  
> Title is ALSO from [needLe](https://youtu.be/buoYwfZG4vQ), I initially wanted to write smth pjs but realized I haven't read like any of the story so this will have to do kjskdjb  
> I hope you enjoy!!!

Two hours until the start of The Mad Burnish’s first competition, Lio finds himself becoming increasingly anxious. Without thinking, his heel clacks repetitively against the walkway to the venue. A brisk breeze whisks through his hair and he shivers. Luckily, they’re moving up again, and they’re now next in line to check in. 

Lio twists his waist and cranes his neck to see past the group of apparent giants in front of them to gaze through the windows of the venue. Musicians of all types huddle in circles, and even without the physical separation, it would be clear who belonged to which group. Lio spots leather, spikes, ripped tanks, and static-shocked hair of all colors, and for once, he feels like he’s in a place he truly belongs. 

His own group is fond of the grungy black leather and copious, yet pointless, belts on every potential location. He’d say it’s part of becoming a musician, if it weren’t for the fact that this has been his dream style since he was thirteen. It’s only become more socially acceptable since it’s a “costume.”

Lio is snapped back to reality when Gueira elbows him in the side--though it hits much higher than he’d intended--and gives Lio a confused look. “We’re up.”

“Sorry,” Lio mutters and hangs behind his two bandmates as they talk with the coordinator about the schedule, warm-ups, and so on. They’d always been much more verbal, so it was only expected for them to take care of the technicalities. It was between the two of them that their band even landed a spot in this competition. 

Lio is a man of few words, ironic, really. He’s trusted with writing and performing the words to their songs, and often he’s considered passing the job over to someone else, but Meis and Gueira always reassures him he’s good at it. 

It’s a lot of pressure, being the words and face behind a band, but Lio hadn’t screwed up too bad thus far. Track record says he’s safe for now. 

“Are you doing okay?” Meis asks. He’s got an outstretched hand on Lio’s shoulder. 

“Nervous, that’s all.” Lio brushes his hand away and side steps to wait for Gueira. “I’ll be alright.”

Lio is generally pretty good at hiding his emotions, but with Meis and Gueira, it’s impossible to hide anything from them. He appreciates their concern, but most of the time, he’d rather be miserable in peace. Especially in a public place like this. 

Gueira finishes with the paperwork and passes out their badges, shoots a concerned look in Lio’s direction, and leads the way into the venue. He explains where their warm-up room is, where the concessions are, and when their playing time is. Lio’s relieved when he finds out they’re playing near the end of the lineup. Less time to be anxious about the results. 

They enter the bustling building, and a few people turn their heads to the door. Some size them up, while others turn back to their group and continue chatting. Those who decide to judge them get an equally as judgmental glare from Lio before continuing to follow Gueira, who forges ahead, past everyone else, to their warm-up room. 

Lio had assumed they would get a room to themselves, but there are a couple other bands already tuning guitars in two of the corners. There are paper dividers pushed off to the side; it seems the bands present decided they were pointless. 

Gueira clears his throat loudly to bring attention to The Mad Burnish’s presence. One band completely ignores him, but one individual from the other band turns his head to wave. Though, after the silent exchange, he stares at them. 

Lio scrunches his face, especially at the loudness of the guy’s spiked blue hair and lack of covering on his chest. Lio readjusts his guitar case on his shoulder and claims a corner, furthest away from the strange guy. 

Meis sighs and follows, but Gueira rushes in the opposite direction to introduce himself. 

“Not interested in being friendly, huh?” Meis asks, nudging at Lio’s shoulder. 

“When am I?” Lio quips. 

Meis shrugs. “Touché.”

Lio pulls his guitar from its case along with a small pot of polish and a cloth. Meis leans against the wall, twisting knobs and strumming. Gueira is excitedly chatting with the obnoxious-looking guy and his band, who look like they don’t want to be there. Lio could relate. 

“Are you feeling any better?” Meis asks. He straddles the back of a chair so he can be on the same level as Lio. “I’m kinda stressed too, y’know. We’ve never done something like this and Gueira, of course, chose this huge competition instead of a local one. He doesn’t think sometimes.” Meis sighs. 

Lio places his guitar in the seat next to him. “Sure.” 

Meis doesn’t seem convinced. 

Luckily, or unluckily, Gueira returns, but there are four people tagging along behind him. “Hey! These guys wanted to say hi,” Gueira explains. 

“Hey!” the blue-haired guy yells. He sticks his hand out. “I’m Galo, this is my band, Burning Rescue. We’ll rescue fans with the fire of our music!” 

Lio stares at his outstretched hand, then reluctantly up at his beaming smile. It’s blinding, and incredibly _annoying_. He couldn’t care less what his band is named and why it’s named that. They’re competitors, and they shouldn’t be making friends here anyway. 

Gueira grits his teeth, shifting his weight between his legs and motions for Lio to just humor him. 

“Lio. I’m sure Gueira already talked your ear off.” He reluctantly grasps Galo’s hand and gives it the sloppiest of shakes. 

Gueira nervously laughs. “Sorry about that. I should’ve let our boss here talk to you instead.”

“It’s fine,” Lio says, cringing at the word _boss_. “I needed to do some things over here anyway. Which, we should be practicing, right?” 

Galo laughs heartily. “We’ve got plenty of time! You’re near the end, and we are too!” 

“Oh. Cool,” Lio mutters. He focuses his attention on the three people huddled behind Galo. Two of them are fiddling on their phones, and one is picking at her nails. “So, are you going to introduce us to the rest of your band? Kinda selfish of you to ignore them, huh.” 

Galo narrows his eyes for a moment. He forces out another laugh and turns to his bandmates. “Right.” He goes down the line of the three members, starting with Aina on his left, a girl with hot pink hair tied into a ponytail with an equally neon green bow and matching overalls; she plays the keyboard, harmonica, and triangle. Next, Remi, a stern young man with mint green straight cut hair and a stylistically rolled suit, in a vibrant blue; he plays the bass and occasionally adds to Galo’s vocals. Lastly is Lucia, the shortest of their band, with golden yellow hair streaked with pink similar to Aina’s, though tied into space buns atop her head. She also dons neon overalls like Aina, but in neon yellow. She provides the drums along with percussion Aina can’t handle. 

“Nice to meet you,” Meis says, offering a gentle smile. “What music do you play?” 

Before Galo can run his mouth, Remi interjects, “Pop rock. What about you?” He raises an eyebrow, and scans their outfits like it’s obvious. 

“Just...rock,” Guiera answers. He tugs at his spiked bracelet. 

“Oh really? I would’ve placed you as punk or something like that,” Remi scoffs, crossing his arms. “It seems we’re in the same brackets.”

It takes everything in Lio’s power to hold back from telling this guy off. He’s saved when Galo waves his hands and apologizes, “Sorry! He doesn’t mean anything by it.” He positions his hands in a pleading gesture. 

“Sure,” Lio grumbles. “If it’s the outfits you’re mad about I would’ve thought you were a children’s music group. The colors are too much.” 

Remi clenches his fists. “And your bland goth wannabe look is better?” he shrieks. 

“Hey! There’s no need to fight!” Galo exclaims, pressing a hand to both of their chests. “So we’re in the same bracket and we have different images, there’s no reason to fight about it!” 

Meis agrees, “Boss is a little riled up, huh.” He clasps Lio’s shoulder. 

The two girls, who hadn’t said much until now, giggle. “It’s hilarious what people get offended by nowadays,” Aina comments. 

Lucia shrugs, “Remi could argue about _anything_.” 

“Shut up, Lucia,” Remi says through gritted teeth. He steps back. “I’m going to the bathroom.” 

With Remi gone, the room settles uncomfortably. The other band huddled in the corner whispers among themselves about the racket, and giggled before returning to their practice. 

“Well! Let’s get to know each other a little better so that doesn’t happen again,” Galo suggests. He scratches the back of his neck nervously. “What made you guys decide to come here?”

Gueira perks up. He clears his throat and boldly states, “We wanted to make a _big_ debut! Facing so many talented and experienced bands, I’m confident we can make a lot of noise and get famous.” He curls his hand into a fist triumphantly. 

Aina bursts into laughter. “What, you’re newbies? You really thought you could win this thing?”

“Well...yeah. We’re awesome.” If Gueira had moveable ears, they’d be drooped down to his toes. “Just because we’re new doesn’t mean we don’t have a chance…”

Lio groans. He pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his head in them. Why did they have to be assigned this room, and why did Gueira have to be _like this_? He hadn't planned for idiots and even more idiots to ruin the day. 

Lucia pipes up, "So did your boss here decide on that?"

"No, absolutely not," Lio groans. "I told Gueira that I wanted to start small but he had to go off and decide on _this_."

Galo's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh boy. Hey, uh," he stops and runs a hand across his heavily gelled hair. "Lio, was it? Why don't we go talk somewhere else for a bit." 

Anger boils in Lio's gut. Who does this guy think he is trying to get Lio alone? Aren't they supposed to be practicing anyway? Maybe that's part of his plan, get the newbie dragged away from his band so he can't practice, and definitely will lose. 

"No. I'm staying here," Lio says, contempt dripping from his gritted teeth. "Go practice with your own band. Leave us alone." 

Galo has the nerve to _laugh_ at him. What an asshole. "You seemed upset and pretty nervous, I wanted to help you out. Maybe a cool down can help you focus!"

"Why would going with _you_ help me calm down? I don't know you."

"Well…" Galo rubs his chin with an index finger. "I'm a decent listener if you want to blow off some steam. And wouldn't it be neat to have some more music friends?" 

"I already have my band, why would I need more friends? I'm fine, I can't fathom why you would want to talk to me."

Galo lights up. "Oh! You're cool, that's why." He says it so matter-of-factly Lio laughs.

For a moment, Lio completely loses himself in his laughter, and Galo watches in confusion. He takes in a few deep breaths and presses both hands together. “Okay, fine. Follow me to the hallway.” He gets up and storms out of the room, listening for Galo’s following footsteps. 

Lio leans against a wall and sighs before beginning. “Look. I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t want to be here, and I was hoping we’d be able to get through today without being bothered. Just practice, perform, get the results, and leave. We’d be able to go back to practicing in Gueira’s parents’ garage recording songs that would never see the light of day by the public. I like this being just a hobby. Gueira has it in his head that we need to be these big stars that everyone knows, and _completely_ ignores my wishes of doing something smaller.” Lio runs his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to avoid you guys, but he had to go and talk us up. I argued with your bandmate because I’m pissed off I’m even _here_. He thinks this is ‘good for us’ but it makes me want to quit altogether.” He buries his head in his hands. He blinks back traitor tears that rise in his eyes. “And I just told this all to a stranger…” 

“Hey! It’s alright, I said you could blow off steam if you needed to,” Galo exclaims, placing a hand on Lio’s shoulder. “If that’s the problem then why don’t we find an empty room to stay in until it’s time to get ready? You won’t have to deal with everyone else. We don’t even need to talk if you don’t want to, you can practice if you want or...anything!” 

Lio shrugs his hand off. It sounds better than what they were doing. “You’re so focused on this. On _me_. I don’t think I’ll ever understand, but okay. Let’s go, but this doesn’t mean I’m gonna be your friend.” 

“No problem!” 


End file.
